This abstract composition feels like a weathered wall of memory, where vertical scumbles and scraped passages reveal successive strata of ochre, moss green, and dusk-blue as though time itself has been sanded into view. The rhythm of rising bands suggests a muted skyline or forest—forms half-emerging, half-erased—inviting the eye to wander between solidity and dissolution. Light is not depicted so much as embedded: it glows from within the pigment, turning abrasion and residue into a quiet, resilient radiance. In its restrained architecture, the work reads as a meditation on persistence—how presence can be built from traces, and how silence can still hold a dense, lived history.